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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23221423">Squeak</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretchenSinister/pseuds/GretchenSinister'>GretchenSinister</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rise of the Guardians (2012)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Consentacles, Other, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Xenophilia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:15:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>575</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23221423</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretchenSinister/pseuds/GretchenSinister</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s my birthday, have a little blacksand with monster Sandy and regular Pitch.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Pitch Black/Sanderson Mansnoozie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Blacksand Short Fics</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Squeak</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally posted on Tumblr on 8/27/2014.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>            Pitch did not <em>squeak</em>. Most certainly not.</p><p>            He looked up into the amused, curious, vast golden eyes of the vast golden creature holding him in their many arms. “You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?”</p><p>            Sandy rippled and glimmered, as close to a cheeky grin as he could get in this form. <em>Lot more to explain than a few funny noises</em>, they said, or at least that was what Pitch gathered from the skin-to-skin transfer of thoughts, possibly the most distracting way of communication that Sandy had ever devised.</p><p>            “Hmm. True…” Pitch ran his finger along the line separating darker gold from lighter, the very edge of the sensitive underside of one of Sandy’s tentacles, and was rewarded with the curious sensation of laughter sent directly into his brain. “You know you’re not being very monstrous now, though, stopping after one…noise.”</p><p><em>            I have trouble with words like this, </em>Sandy explained, <em>couldn’t tell that it wasn’t fhtagn.</em></p><p>            “I promise I’ll make it obvious if I need it,” Pitch said. “Now–shall we continue playing?”</p><p><em>            Yes</em> barely encompassed the sensation that surged through Pitch like a tidal wave. Sandy’s tentacles rushed over his skin, twining and writhing around him with raw power. Such power, Sandy had, of course, in all his forms, but in this one it was perhaps most obvious, and Pitch blushed violet all over at the sensation of helplessness that was, in Sandy’s arms, delicious.</p><p>            He allowed himself a moan. Moans were what this situation demanded; if not dignified, at least appropriate. And besides, when he moaned, the swirling bioluminescent patterns in Sandy’s skin glowed brighter.</p><p>            It almost made him want to laugh. Sandy had asked to be the monster so sweetly, symbols forming delicately above their head while Sandy gave his cheek a few light, post-coital kisses, as if this was a suggestion Pitch might not be interested in.</p><p>            Perhaps it made sense. After all, Pitch would never have allowed anyone else to be the monster with him. But Sandy was Sandy, and Sandy understood fluidity of form, understood monstrosity, as well as, and probably better than, Pitch himself, in their curious, silent way.</p><p>            Pitch, limited to language, hoped he had made that clear to Sandy when they asked.</p><p>            Well, clear or not, Sandy wasn’t being diffident now. Their monstrous form was huge, and beautiful, and strange, and eager, and so very much still <em>Sandy</em> that Pitch decided that next time maybe they should both be the monster, for just as they understood fluidity and monstrosity, so too did they understand all of Pitch’s sweet spots, so much so that this encounter was progressing rather one-sidedly. If Pitch was a monster as well maybe he could offer Sandy more of a challenge, Pitch thought in slivers as he shivered and gasped, and maybe too he could do more than let himself be played like a musical instrument.</p><p>            Honestly, how would Sandy ever agree to do this again if all Pitch could manage in reciprocation were sloppy kisses on whatever tentacle he could reach? Sandy moved them too fast for Pitch to pay them proper attention, seeming far more intent on proving themselves a virtuoso in Pitch.</p><p>            Or maybe not a virtuoso, for in the end, Sandy produced more than a few squeaks and squeals from his favorite instrument.</p><p>            Judging by the feeling that rolled off them, this was more than enough to get them to want to be the monster again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Tags and Comments from Tumblr:</p><p>#sandy would make such a cute tentacle monster though</p><p>cenobitesquid said: Mmmmm what a beautiful fic! And happy birthday to you! ^__^</p><p>tejoxys said: Monster Sandy is so flipping cute. :D “next time maybe they should both be the monster” YES PLEASE.</p><p>marypsue said: Thank you for reminding me why I love this ship.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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